The Challenge of Grief: Four years without Mom

When my mom died unexpectedly four years ago today, I knew I needed to seek out counseling at school. I was away at King's College London. When I asked, they obliged, and sent me to a psychiatrist at school.

"You are focusing too much on her death," he said that dark night in late August, 2018. "You need to focus on her life. Right now you cry when you see her pictures; but there will come a time when a picture brings a smile."

I have thought about his words frequently, but wonder when pictures will no longer make me sad. I can smile/laugh at a picture or thought, but it can also send me spiralling into sadness. I have a theory that because a) Mom died after her catheterization in Waco, and I still believe she was (accidentally, of course) killed by the cardiologist that day; and b) Covid started just a year and half after she passed, grief has been complicated and compromised.

"Once you're working, the confusion you feel will start to lift," the doctor said, after I told him I was walking in a fog. Four years on, I can say some of the fog has lifted, but not nearly as much as I envisioned when he spoke to me. Am I grieving too slowly? Is there a way to grieve faster? I remember before Mom died, feeling like anyone who cried for their loved ones who had died long before was weak/dramatic/pick your adjective. My dad told me "you will always miss your mother" and a friend said that after three decades, the pain is just the same.

So how does one process grief? Here are a few helpful nuggets I can share, maybe even a few pearls:

** Find the joy where you can - a sunset, a puppy, "Two and a Half Men", vanilla ice cream

** Stay away from those who preach to you ("she's with God/Jesus now", "she's in a better place", etc.)

** Your friends who haven't lost a parent/sibling/child won't understand. Sometimes you will feel jealous of their in-tact families. Try to share with friends who understand. Think of it like this: if you don't know what it's like to miscarry/have breast cancer/get divorced, are you really the best one to comfort someone who's experienced those life-changing challenges?

The other day, I had a thought - that yin and yang exist for a reason. I had been so focused on Mom's death, as Dr. S had said, that I forgot the upsides: I am learning to become an adult (weird, yeah, at my age); I have the freedom to make decisions/fly places/buy things my mom would have criticized (I can't think of anything crazy I've done, but check back with me; maybe I'll get a tattoo or hop a flight to Amsterdam on a whim); or that I am an understanding shoulder to cry on for the people who are losing parents every day. I take particular comfort from my Motherless Daughters group on Facebook.

I miss you, Mamacita - you gorgeous, witty, kind and sensitive woman. Thank you for teaching me to appreciate the murmurations in South Texas and the meaning of the word "couple" when I was small and you told me to get a couple napkins from the kitchen drawer.